Square Dance

   My good friend Thea posted a comment in my Friendster account asking if I was the one she saw at Nevada Square.  I also happened to see Abel, and perhaps the whole of UP Baguio’s Debate Society and some members of the University Student Council.  It sort of begs the question: what in the heck was I doing at Nevada Square?

   Anyone who has been in Baguio lately would know that Nevada is the destination for drunken debauchery.  While I am known for consuming copious amounts of alcohol, I don’t do my drinking in nightclubs.  “House music” strikes me as porno music, and I don’t take too lightly to glowing balls (so to speak).  Besides, I’d rather sit down with drunken men in a sari-sari store than to squeeze myself (so to speak) at La Cuna.

   My good friend Ian also sort of “caught” me there, and asked if I was a regular there.  A regular?  Do I go to the University of Nevada earning my Bachelor’s Degree in Alcohology?  Nope: for one, I find their prices atrocious, and the blue-ness of Bedroom is nauseating.  Looking at scantily-clad clubbers also gets stale after the first few minutes of discreet ogling.

   I’d rather sit down on an easy chair nursing a bottle of Jack Daniel’s, doing my Al Pacino impersonations.

Marocharim • January 1, 2008 • Life